The Story Continued
by ezrumiju
Summary: Sarah and Chuck get kidnapped on a mission to take out a very powerful terrorist group. Will they escape? If they do will they be able to bring down this new organization? To do either they will need the help of family and friends. This is Season 6 of Chuck, with all the action, drama, romance, and (hopefully) humor as the original show. Canon pairings.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Wow it feels good to finally have this posted. This story has been in the back of my mind for months and now the first chapter is up. I have no idea how long this story is going to be, I have sort of a plan in my mind for how I want it to go but at this point, nothing is really permanent. I will try my best to update regularly (which probably means every two weeks.) I love to write but I hate to revise which is why it takes so long for each chapter to be ready to post. Thank to anyone who is willing to read what I've written, it means a lot.**

**I do not own Chuck or any of it's characters.**

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The thick rope chaffed against his bare wrists as he struggled to break free. The cold metal of the chair underneath him made him want to arch his back so as not to touch it, but he kept his cover and acted as if he were sitting on the couch at home. He slouched slightly and tilted his head, his lips turned up. He was Charles Carmichael rich successful freelance spy. His smirk earned him a hard fist in the nose, which promptly began to bleed. A man stepped into the light; he had dark eyes that looked almost black. His thick hair that had probably once been raven was streaked with gray. He looked about fifty and judging from his strong jaw and high cheekbones that were still visible underneath worn skin and scars, he had once been very attractive.

"Tell me where it is agent Carmichael, or should I say Chuck Bartowski." His interrogators voice was tinged with a British accent and his features suggested the same nationality. What was strange was that his voice was not cold and detached like Chuck had been expecting, it was light and giddy, as if it belonged to a child who had been promised something sweet. Although surprised by the use of his real name, Chuck kept his facade and stared the man straight in his black eyes.

"Sorry," he said in a sarcastically nonchalant voice. "I don't know any Bartowski," He needed to keep talking until Sarah was ready. "I'm Charles Carmichael of Carmichael Industries. Fighting terrorists with technology. That's our motto, pretty good right? If you or any of your evil buddies ever need someone to thwart your plans for world domination just call us up, our standard fee is," he looked around the room and counted at least 20 men holding guns trained on him, "not important. What really matters is you, the client, at CI we really care about the level of satisfaction," there was a small door on the other side of the room it probably led to either a way out or a central server underneath the abandoned building, that was where he had to get to once he had the information they needed. "We give to each and every customer and you're no different. Just call us up and-" his next words were cut of by the butt of a gun smashing into his face.

"Shut up," the man said frowning now, although the giddy insanity still shown bright in his eyes. "We just want to know one thing, where is the Intersect?" Chuck blinked, surprised out of his cover momentarily, who the hell was this guy? How did he know about the Intersect and Chuck's relationship to it? What the hell was going on? The man noticed the effect of his words and smiled. "Yes Chuck, we know all about the Intersect, we know all about you too actually." Chuck tried to hide his nervousness as sweat dampened the back of his shirt. What was he talking about?

"I'm not really that interesting, just a computer guy really." Another punch in the face, at this rate the man would break his nose before he could get out of here.

"A computer guy, that's funny, really it is. That's just what I need you for actually. A computer problem." The man laughed as his lips curved into a sadistic smile.

"Well you let me go and I'd be happy to help, really just need to get my stuff and I can fix any malfunction or bug that's got you worried." Chuck smiled again, but the ease of it was gone. Pain coursed through his face at every word and expression he made.

"I don't think so Chuck." He said, the icy words wrapped themselves around Chuck and sent shivers down his back. "You're coming with us." Well that didn't make any sense. Chuck was already with them obviously, unless he meant they were going somewhere else, or more than one somewhere else. But why? Why not torture him right here? He must know that Chuck's backup was on the way, and that meant that Sarah and Casey were walking into a trap. He needed to get out; he had enough information for now. But before he could act, all the lights shut off and gunfire surrounded him.

There was shouting and pain filled cries. The only light came from the gun flashes. Amidst the chaos, someone came up behind him and cut the ropes that held his arms. He turned and saw long blond hair tied in a ponytail and focused, clear blue eyes. She moved to his feet and in one swift movement he was free. He pressed his lips against hers as they stood. " Are you ok?" She asked with worry making her voice tight. She handed him a tranq gun then lifted her hands to examine his broken bleeding face.

"I'm fine, thanks for coming," he said attempting a smile as they both turned toward the men still firing at where Chuck assumed Casey had been.

"Any time," She replied, relief eminent in her voice now that she knew he was ok. She ran at the swarm of armed men without so much as a second thought. Chuck stood for a second longer and felt his world flip. Images passed through his head at lightning speed. Punches, blocks, kicks, grabs, all the information he needed was now swirling around in his mind. He smiled and gave into the Intersect, then his legs started to move.

Chuck tripped the first two men that came at him. He tranqued three more before knocking one unconscious with the butt of his gun. Sarah had already taken down 6 guys with bullets before one finally managed to get close enough for her to slam her boot into his face. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of two guys running at Chuck. She shot them before turning around and disarming her own attacker who she then killed with his own gun. Casey had set to work firing down on the assailants from his perch up on one of the railings that hung over the majority of the warehouse.

Everything was fine, men were falling like stones and Sarah and Chuck were well on there way to an evening alone like they had talked about that morning, but then more figures swarmed them. Sarah was forced to duck behind cover to avoid the onslaught of bullets, but Chuck had been in the middle of the room. He tried to get behind one of the shipping boxes that littered the perimeter of the warehouse, but before he could jump toward them, the men surrounded him. He stopped and put his hands up.

"Drop your weapons," A familiar English voice commanded. Chuck had no choice; he let the gun drop from his hand and onto the floor. "Good," said the man as he walked forward towards Chuck. "Now slide it over here. And if you want him to live, agents Walker and Casey, you will do the same." Sarah frowned and swore to herself silently before standing up, laying down her gun, and putting her hands on her head. She looked at Chuck who met her eye, they were both thinking the same thing, they were out manned and out gunned, unless a miracle happened, they were dead. Casey also stood, 10 guys took they're guns off of Sarah and Chuck and pointed them at him. Before coming into the building he and Sarah had set a wide perimeter of explosives to which the detonator was now burning a whole in Casey's back pocket. If they could just get far enough away…

"Ah the lovely agent Walker, what a pleasure to see you. Or is it Bartowski now?" the man said smiling at her with narrowed eyes. Sarah's eyes widened by a fraction of an inch at the use of her name, and the knowledge this man seemed to have of her personal life.

The man gave her another smirk that "Who hasn't heard of the star crossed spies, who mange to take down more threats to the United States then the rest of the agencies combined?" He thought for a moment and Sarah and Chuck, although most of their minds were focused on formulating a plan of escape, allowed themselves to feel a bit proud. The moment was ruined when the man spoke again. "I suppose you could be helpful too. Alright men take these two alive, kill the Colonel."

"No!" Chuck yelled whipping around to see where he had last seen Casey, but sniper was already moving. He jumped back from the edge of the rail and glanced behind him. A large window was about thirty paces back, while he hated the idea of leaving his team behind, the man said he needed them alive and at the moment Casey had no better plan. He turned and sprinted toward the window. Gunfire echoed behind him but he didn't slow. He jumped the last few feet and smashed through the glass, when he landed two stories below he rolled and kept running.

"This is Casey," He spoke into the radio piece in his ear. "I need air pickup now, trace my location and get me the hell out of here." He continued to run until he heard a chopper overhead. He slowed, but not to a complete stop, when the whirling bladed machine got close enough he jumped in and they flew off. He stared back at the dark strip of land he had come from and saw again his team with guns at their backs. He growled low and menacing, the pilot shuddered.

…

Back on he ground Chuck and Sarah stood with their hands on their heads staring at the tall man in front of them. "Let's make this easy hmm?" He said smiling at the couple. "Either one of you resists or tries anything suspicious I kill the other one and make you watch, then I will kill you. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," Sarah replied coldly. She glanced at Chuck, or the back of his head since he was still turned toward the man with the gun. She swallowed and tried to get rid of the lump in her throat. This morning everything had been so perfect, and now…damn it how had this happened?

"Good," the man said then he turned and nodded at the guard beside him. The guard nodded back then raised his gun and fired it straight into Chuck's chest. Chuck whipped around fast enough to see Sarah's eyes go wide and hear her gasp, then he collapsed onto the floor as the world went black.

"Chuck!" She yelled and ran forward towards him. The guard fired again and she felt something sharp hit her neck. She stumbled and pulled the small dart out of her skin and stared at it. She fell to her knees and collapsed unconscious. The man walked forward and loomed over the two of them.

"Let's go," he ordered then turned and walked away. Before he walked out of the door he looked behind his as his men hoisted the agents onto their backs and collected their things. Both their faces looked so young and desperate when Chuck had been shot. He smiled; he was going to have fun with these two. It had been a while since he had gotten to cause pain to two people as in love as they were. And it always delivered good results.

…

Morgan was having a good day. Chuck, Sarah, and Casey were away doing spy work but for once he was relieved that they had left him behind. He woke up to Alex's sleeping face pressed into his chest, her breathes even and deep. He had laid there for almost a half hour just listening to her mummer in her sleep and feeling totally and completely at home. When she finally did wake up, she mumbled something about a good morning but expressed no desire to get out of bed. Which he was perfectly happy with. After a while her hunger seemed to outweigh her desire for relaxation and they both got up, to many sighs of disappointment.

After he had mad some eggs (creating a complete mess of the kitchen as he did so) and her stomach was satisfied, they had just talked, he made her laugh with jokes about nothing in particular and her smile kept him talking. They were on the couch, her curled up beside him and both drinking coffee. After a while the mood sobered the smallest bit and there smiles left their faces, but not their hearts.

"I'm glad you're here," she said quietly almost as if she didn't want him to hear it. She was worried about her dad and Morgan knew it.

"So am I," he replied playing with a lock of her hair as she stared at the muted TV they had left playing. "He's fine, you know that right?" Morgan said looking down at her and meeting her eyes before she looked away again.

"Yeah I know," She said still just a little above a whisper. "It's just that, he barely has to go out on missions with Sarah and Chuck as backup, when he does it means it's serious. I just can't, you know, I don't want him to…" She trailed off and stared out the window. Morgan sighed and shifted so he was in front of her looking straight into her eyes.

"Come on," he said a smile forming at the corner of his lips, "Your dad's a super spy remember, and he has the Intersect and the toughest, ass-kicking agent the world has ever seen. You know, I bet they're already done with the mission and are on the plane rid home. I bet you ten bucks your dad's already threatened to kill Chuck at least three times."

Alex smiled and a glint playfulness shown in her eyes, "Raise it to twenty and your on." She said leaning closer to him, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she stared at Morgan, who blushed slightly. All of a sudden he was acutely aware of how sweet she smelled and the way her blue eyes made his head swirl, he closed his eyes leaned in and the door slammed open with a bang!

Both Morgan and Alex jumped and scooted away from each other, blushes staining their cheeks. Casey barged in looking wild, furious, and sleep deprived. His clothes were stained by dried blood, dirt and cuts caked is skin, a long scratch above his left eye looked like it had only recently stopped bleeding. "Dad!" Alex yelled surprised as both she and her boyfriend jumped up from the couch, something was wrong, Casey's appearance said that much.

"Alex," Casey said rushing over to her and putting a hand on her shoulder as he pulled her into a hug. He pulled away quickly and looked at her, the intense force in his eyes seemed a bit softer when aimed at his daughter but it was still very much present.

"John," Morgan said surprised out of formalities. "What the hell's going on? Where are Chuck and Sarah? What happened?" Casey looked at him and clenched his jaw as if there were a million other things he would rather do and places he would rather be then there telling Morgan what had happened to his best friend. "There gone," he said after a long moment of tense silence, "they were taken."

…

Ten minutes, two cups of coffee and a hair-raising car ride later; Morgan and Casey barged into Castle. "It was a trap," Casey told Morgan as they quickly moved down the stairs and toward the conference monitor. "As soon as Sarah and I got there more men charged in from behind and surrounded us. I had to jump through a window to escape but Bartowski and Walker weren't so lucky. They were on the ground floor while I was above, they could be anywhere now" These last words he said as he punched something into a small computer and brought Beckman up on the monitor.

"General, we have a situation," Casey reported thrusting away all the emotion that was threatening to overtake his voice.

"Colonel?" Beckman asked, caught off gaurd. "Why do you look like that? What happened?" Morgan stepped forward as Casey opened his mouth to reply.

"Casey had a misunderstanding with a window, General." Morgan said as Casey glared at him and growled. "Also, just a minor detail, Chuck and Sarah have ah sort of been captured."

Beckman's eyes widened a fraction and addressed Casey, "Is this true Colonel, do they really have the Intersect?" Casey swallowed and nodded but Morgan frowned, something else was going on here, something they weren't telling him.

"Uh General?" Morgan asked leaning in a bit. "Who are they?" Beckman frowned at that, on one hand Morgan may be the most unprofessional spy she had ever seen, but on the other hand he was her best option, she needed someone who knew that Chuck was in possession of the Intersect again and by design, there weren't many of those people.

"Colonel," Beckman said and Casey snapped to attention. "Brief Grimes, you two are heading out tonight." With that the screen cut to black and the Carmichael Industries logo took it over again. Morgan turned to look at the large man who was still staring at the monitor.

"Casey?" He asked causally, the man growled. "Uh, if you don't mind me asking, where are we going?" Casey turned and walked over to the armory and began to pull guns off the shelves.

"Russia," He growled his eyes turning cold and hateful.

"Ok great," Morgan said hot on the Colonel's heals. "Why Russia?"

Casey turned around shoved a tranq pistol in Morgan's hands then swung his bag over his shoulder. "We're going to go find the Intersect," he called behind him at Morgan who looked at the weapon in his hand for a second longer before running after his friend.

End


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I should have posted this yesterday, from now on I will try to post every other Wednesday night (If I eventually get up to every week it will always be Wednesday.) This chapter is kind of angsty and the next one will be too. But bare with me, it will get more cheerful. Got some Jeffster mayhem in this one so enjoy that (It took me days to write and rewrite that scene). For clarities sake, the story takes place around six months after Chuck versus the Goodbye, everything that happened between then and now will probably be explained in a few chapters. Enjoy the story.**

**I do not own Chuck or any of its characters.**

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Chuck woke up to freezing water being dumped on his head. He coughed and spluttered trying to get rid of the liquid now swirling around in his throat. A man grabbed his hair and pulled his head from its slouch.

"Good morning," the man said looking at Chuck as an animal might look at prey. He had bright green eyes, dark skin, and black hair; it was a strange combination especially with the long curved scar that ran from his left cheek to the bridge of his nose. "Nice of you to rejoin the land of the living," He stood up and walked back from Chuck sliding his hands behind his back as he did so. "My name is Martin Randill, I'll be the man you deal with from now on. It's my job to get certain information out of you and I have been authorized to use whatever means I deem necessary.

Chuck smiled and gave off a fake laugh, "Yeah, yeah, torture, I now the drill. You should now, I am trained for these kinds of things." He kept the self-confident smirk on his face as his mind desperately tried to formulate some plan of escape.

His eyes scanned the room searching for an exit. There was a door with a tiny, filthy window in the middle of it, around 7ft in front of him but two armed men guarded it, and there looked to be around five different locks on it. The rest of the room was plain. A 10 by 10 steel cube, not many rooms were shaped like that, it meant he was being held in a building made with rooms constructed specifically for this kind of "interrogation."

Chuck doubted this organization (which was known for moving from one location to the next with outstanding speed and secrecy) would spend their time and money building such a physical base of operations. No, they were using a pre existing building, an already established front for them to hide behind. A place with rooms like this already built into the designs, like a prison. Yes, a prison, it seemed to be the most likely explanation. But buying an old prison leaves a paper trial. They must be using a functioning prison as a front for this base. Not that that was very helpful information, Chuck could be in any prison anywhere in the world.

He refocused on Randill, the man walked toward a table on one side of the room, to Chuck's left. On the metal surface lay an assortment of metal objects. There were some ordinary things: pliers, hammers, even a blowtorch, but then there were also things Chuck had never seen before, things he could only imagine the use for. His heart sped up, he began to sweat. He'd been in situations like this before but every other time he'd had back up on the way. He'd get smacked up a bit and the door would burst open with his rescuers welcome faces either set in worry, anger, or excitement. Now Casey was far away, he assumed, and Sarah was nowhere to be seen. Just thinking about her made his stomach flip. What was happening to her? Probably the same thing that was about to happen to him. Feeling sick, Chuck pushed away the mental torture that swarmed his brain. He needed to be strong if he was going to stand any chance against whatever was coming.

Randill was moving again, it seemed he had chosen a scalpel as his first tool. He spun the small metal blade around in his hands as he walked closer. "So harmless looking," Randill muttered staring at his weapon, as if mesmerized by it. "Can only be fatal if used exactly right." He traced the blade over Chuck's neck not hard enough to cut, but shivers ran up the nerd's back anyway. Randill's hand moved up until the cold steel touched his victim's cheek. "But if used correctly, can be," the blade cut into Chuck's skin around an inch and a half below his eye. "So very painful." Randill smiled as he finished and dragged the blade down, slashing Chuck's face and allowing crimson liquid to flow freely from the deep, inch long wound.

Chuck clenched his jaw and drew a shaky breath. This was nothing, nothing, he could handle this. Fierce determination coursed through him, he would not give Randill the satisfaction of hearing his pain.

"What we want is information, Chuck." Randill said leaning away again and wiping the bloody blade on Chuck's already speckled shirt as he did so. "The Intersect, we know you know about it, we know all about your history with it, what we don't know is where it is now." He began to pace with his hands clasped together behind his back and his brow furrowed. "It was reported that your wife was the one who last downloaded it, but it was faulty was it not? Erased all her memories, but she seems to remember everything fine know doesn't she. Tell me Chuck," Randill stopped pacing and leaned in close, his voice low and quiet, "What was it like to realize that your wife didn't know who you were?"

Chuck just glared at him, "Where is she?" He hissed more than asked. Randill didn't reply, instead he just smiled, a malicious gleam in his eye. "What the hell have you done with my wife!" Chuck shouted and struggled against his restraints.

"Nothing," Randill smirked standing erect again, "yet." He finished and walked around Chuck, placing his scalpled hand over the spy's right shoulder. "But you can be sure, Agent Bartowski, that if you don't tell us what happened to the Intersect, her beautiful face will not go unharmed." Randill gave Chuck a few seconds to respond before grinning and whispering into Chuck's ear, "Have it your way then." With that he pressed the blade into Chuck's flesh, deep enough to bleed but not to damage anything internally. In one fluid motion he slashed down and across, leaving a growing, crimson trail that lead diagonally from Chuck's right shoulder to right below his left rib cage. A scream of pain escaped Chuck's throat and Randill smirked.

…

It'd been a while since Sarah Walker had been actually kidnapped. In most cases she either killed anybody who got close enough to grab she or she let herself get taken to extract needed information. It hade been nearly a year since she had been held against her will with no hope of escape. Longer still had it been since she was without backup.

She had woken up when a door close to her opened. Not wanting to draw attention to the fact that she was awake, she kept her body limp and her breathing even. Footsteps echoed from a metal floor as a person stepped close to her. Judging from the weight of the footsteps it was a man, he leaned in toward her. His face came close enough that she could feel and smell his breath. She focused on keeping her breathing steady and her eyes closed.

"She hasn't woken up?" A gruff, masculine voice asked as the man straightened.

"No sir," responded another voice from somewhere a few feet away. "But she was muttering in her sleep a few hours back."

"What did she say, any names, places?" The original voice said again, more urgency in his voice this time.

"As far as we could tell, it sounded like she was just talking about that other one."

"What about him, anything of interest?" Footsteps again, it sounded like he was moving toward the door.

"No, just his name," To that there was a sigh. Then a snicker.

"Ahh young love, I'm going to have fun with these two." A pause, and then, " I'm going to start with the other one, once he starts screaming wake her up, I want her to hear it." Despite her self-control, Sarah stiffened at that and her eyes opened.

Immediately she went limp again hoping that no one had noticed her movement. The other one could only mean Chuck, the thought of them torturing her husband, her Chuck made her stomach flip and her head pound. Her heart raced and despite her best efforts her breaths came in ragged short bursts. She tried to calm down, to slow her pulse, and after a few minutes, she managed to wrangle her spinning emotions.

She listened for footsteps, voices, anything to give her any hint of what was going on around her. It was around twenty minutes before she heard anything, and what she did hear made her blood turn to ice.

"What the hell have you done with my wife!?"

The voice was unmistakably Chuck's, there was a rage in it that Sarah hardly ever heard, a fury that he reserved for special occasions. There was also a layer of fear and worry to his shout. And only someone who knew his voice better than their own would be able to detect a last note of pain in his words. Sarah heard all these emotions and felt them as much as her husband did.

"That's our cue." A women's voice spoke out from a corner of the room in front of Sarah. "Wake her up." Footsteps sounded, walking toward Sarah from somewhere on her left.

"Randill looked excited today, remember how that turned out last time? I almost feel bad for the poor bastard." This was the voice of the man she had heard before.

"Just wake her up," The women replied, from her tone it sounded like she was in charge. The footsteps came closer and fingers touched her hair. The fingers turned into a palm that struck her hard in the face.

Sarah snarled and slammed her head up from its fake slouch. The back of her head made contact with something soft, there was a crack and a yell of pain.

Immediately she was focused. Sarah quickly scanned the room, five guards, two by the door to her left, one in front of her, one to her right, and one closer to her clutching his bleeding nose.

"Bitch!" The man yelled and he drew his gun.

'Hey!" The soldier behind him yelled as she stepped forward, Sarah assumed this was the woman who had spoken before. "We need her alive!" The man snarled, Sarah wasn't sure if he had heard her and even if he did, she didn't know if he would listen or not. But the man didn't shoot. Instead he raised his hand and brought the butt of the gun down, striking Sarah's forehead and causing blood to start to flow into her eyes.

"Control yourself!" The woman ordered and the man froze, his arm half raised for what would. have been another strike. The woman stepped forward looking like she was going to reprimand him, but she never got the chance to speak.

A scream, pain filled and throat ripping reverberated around the room. Sarah gasped and her world came to a sudden, blinding stop. Her mind so quick and detail oriented seemed to slow and was only able to form a few thoughts. Chuck was hurt, Chuck was being tortured. They were hurting him, she was going to kill them.

"Chuck!" She screamed and fought against the ropes that bound her wrists to the armrests of her chair. Sarah Walker was an animal. Her mind went blank, her body controlled now by only one thought, one driving purpose. She had to save Chuck, to find him and save him using whatever means necessary. She screamed again and lashed around fighting her constraints.

The guards, who had looked pleased with themselves moments before were now on guard, a few had their hands on their guns, the ones that were holding larger firearms had their fingers on the triggers, ready to shoot if necessary. Sarah didn't care, she wouldn't care if it were a hundred loaded weapons pointed at her head, she wouldn't stop fighting.

Another scream washed over the room, and Sarah joined her furious cry with her husband's agony filled one. Neither she nor the guards had any idea how, but Sarah managed to free one hand from the ropes that bound it. After that it was only seconds before her other hand was free and she was undoing the ropes around her feet in a flurry of movement.

One of the guards ran forward, gun drawn, which was swiftly knocked out of his hand by Sarah's boot. Her next kick hit him square in the face and he dropped like a stone. She whirled around and punched the next man hard in the gut. She ducked under a kick from her left and swiped at where she assumed her attackers leg was. She turned to the man before he hit the floor and kicked at his face. She spun and dodged a punch to her head, then blocked the man's next fist and delivered a roundhouse kick to his unguarded face.

All that was left was the women. Wisely she had stayed back and now she was standing across the room with her gun, locked and loaded, aimed between Sarah's eyes. Sarah put her hands up still breathing heavily.

A man groaned and got up behind her, it was the one who had woken her up before, the one whose nose she broke. He attacked her from behind; she ducked, twisted, stood back up, and punched him. Then she grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him in front of her as a shield. Sarah pushed him forward and he fell into the woman, bringing her down with him to the floor.

The super spy didn't miss a beat. She stooped down, grabbed the woman's gun while kicking out with her boot. Sarah shot the door hinges and the lock as she ran forward. The thick slab of steel that had once been a functioning door, groaned and toppled. Sarah charged out of the room and was met by three figures holding guns. She didn't stop to look at them; she simply disarmed them and knocked them out. Another yell cut across the hallway, she spun toward the sound and saw a door half way down the hallway she was in.

He was there, so close to her. She had to get to him, to protect him. That was her job; it had always been her job. Right now Chuck needed her, and nothing was going to get in Sarah Walker's way.

She shot the two guards in front of the door and ran forward. As Sarah was moving she heard sounds from behind her. She didn't turn but from the noise it seemed like a whole lot of guards were coming after her. Sarah fired behind her blindly and continued to move.

There was yelling down the hall and Sarah fired again. She was only a few feet away from Chuck's room now. Without stopping, she shot the hinges and locks like she had with her own door. She didn't wait for it to fall back; she slammed her foot into the steel and sent it toppling.

Whatever Sarah thought she would see or feel, she was wrong. Nothing could have prepared her for the sight of Chuck, bound and bleeding, yelling in pain from the scalpel embedded in his leg. She gasped and her eyes widened. His pain became hers, and she felt consumed by it.

She couldn't breathe, how could she have let this happen. Pain crushed her from all sides, guilt drowned her. Sarah struggled to regain control of her emotions. She longed for the time when nothing could hurt her, that blissfully emotionless time had been so much easier than this.

Chuck looked up and caught her eye. The agony on his face was covered by surprise, then relief washed over his features. What did he have to feel relieved about? Sarah stared at him, and found, somewhere in the depth of his hazel eyes, an anchor to keep her from being carried away on the current of her raging emotions.

"Sarah!" He choked. All the pain and fear and distress that had been tormenting him was washed away with pure sweet relief. Sarah was here, she was ok, she had come for him. Chuck was reminded again of just how much he loved his wife, and her knack for getting him out of rough situations.

Sarah also felt the warm sense of relief clear her mind, she was with her husband now and Chuck always found a way to calm whatever turmoil was eating at her. She let go of a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Forcing herself to refocus, she glanced around the room.

Four men surrounded her, all with loaded guns. And from the sound of it, the reinforcements were closing in. The man right in front of her still hadn't turned around, but she was almost certain of his identity. Without wasting any more time she attacked. She was more than aware that for her to ever get out alive she wound have to leave her wounded husband. There was no way he could walk straight, let alone run or fight. If he could just flash then maybe they would have a chance, but in his emotional and physical state, that was pretty much impossible.

All of this flashed through her head as her fists and feet flew. She disarmed the first guy that came at her then spun him around and used him as a shield to protect from the bullets coming her way. She fired at two more men and they fell to the ground.

Throughout the mayhem and the shouts, Chuck had been all but forgotten. By the time Sarah started on the fourth guard, making use of her multiple black belts for this one, Chuck had already used his wedding ring (which in addition to being a lock pick also happened to have a serrated edge for this purpose) to free his hands, but was having trouble with his feet. Every move his body made, tendrils of pain crawling through him, taking their time as they passed through his body. All Chuck had to do was sit forward long enough to cut his feet free. But with his body the way it was, just a simple movement like that would be hell. He gave himself a mental shake, grit his teeth, and slammed his body forward before he could talk himself out of it. A scream of pain ripped through his teeth as he began to unbind himself.

Sarah who was in the midst of a heated judo match with her opponent spun to Chuck on instinct. Taking the distraction as an opportunity, her attacker kicked out and caught her square in the back. She stumbled forward whipping around to face the man again. He got one more good punch in before Sarah managed to get inside his guard knock him out with a well-placed fist.

Sarah turned to her husband who at last had freed himself from his bindings. She almost ran forward, but a movement to her left caught her attention. Just barely she managed to duck under the hammer that would have hit her between the eyes. She was not so lucky when a foot swung directly after. Her jaw exploded in pain but she couldn't focus on that. She blocked the next kick and swung her fist, which her attacker then dodged.

The man was too quick to face in close range. She flipped backward grabbing a gun from one of her previous victims as she did so. She pointed the weapon straight at the man in front of her and for the first time got a good look at his face.

It was the man who had been leaning over Chuck when Sarah had barged in. She blinked, something about his face seemed familiar… that scar. She didn't have time to dwell on it anymore though; boots were pounding outside and drawing nearer by the second.

Sarah stepped forward and grabbed the man, while keeping the gun to his head, and spun him around so he was acting as a shield from whoever was coming as she was pressing the weapon into his temple.

The reinforcements reached the door just as Sarah stepped in front of Chuck. "Freeze," she commanded and the guards (around ten of them) stopped in their tracks. They kept their guns pointed at Sarah but they made no move to approach.

"Take one step and he dies!" She yelled at the soldiers. Chuck looked up at her. There was no way, even with a hostage, that the two of them could get out alive. Part of him, the one that had trained for five years as a spy, and the part that loved Sarah more than life itself, wanted her to go, leave him behind and get herself out. But the other part, the part that was still clutching onto the Buy More and the nerd herding life, desperately wanted her to stay. No matter how much training he received or experience he gained, he would never be comfortable being surrounded by loaded weapons.

"Whoa that's a… that's a lot of guns." He swallowed and looked at his wife. "Sarah, you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, you?"

"Well, I've been better."

"I'm shocked."

"I've also been worse."

She looked at him and raised an eyebrow, "Have you?"

He thought for a moment, "W-Well… no… no, not in the strictest sense of the word worse."

"I implore you," A familiar English voice cut off Chuck's ramblings, "Shut up." The group of guards stiffened slightly and at once made room for black-eyed man from the warehouse. He stood before Sarah and Chuck and frowned. "You Americans," He said distastefully, "Always so crude, escape attempts should be done with more… finesse."

He sighed and looked directly at the man Sarah still held at gunpoint. "I'm disappointed Randill. I give you two incapacitated spies, and all you managed to do was get five of my men killed, and get captured as a hostage. You have proved worthless to me."

The large man sucked in a breath and made a sound close to a whimper that caused Chuck to do a double take. How bad could disappointing the English man be if it made someone like Randill actually whimper? He was moving now, the English man, he stepped back and took a small device from a man standing behind him. He looked up and smiled at Sarah and Chuck.

"Now, I'm not sure if you know, but we have a fairly unique way of keeping track of our agents. To give them a little," he thought for a moment, "motivation when completing their assignments." He gave a sort of knowing laugh, which made Randill shudder again, then he smiled at the green-eyed man sadistically. "You brought this on yourself, Randill, I would say do better next time but, well, you know." Randill's eyes widened and Sarah had the good sense to shove him away before the English man pressed a small red button on the device in his hand. The room when silent as Randill froze, his mouth opened in agony and…

…

Lester screamed. It was a high-pitched squeal caused several people to search wildly for whatever little girl was being brutally murdered. But all they saw was a short, Indian man staring at a video screen playing the new Jeffster! music video. The video had been recorded with the highest quality tech legally available in Germany. It had taken the band's crude cover of "Fat Bottom Girls" and turned it into something that would actually be acceptable to show to the public. Which meant getting rid of most of the original video that Jeff and Lester had presented to the company.

"What is this, this, mishegas?" Lester said gesturing at the video, "What happened to our beautiful creation?" The short man was outraged as he turned to his manager.

"You mean the four minutes of crotch clutching and hair whipping that showed up on my desk yesterday morning? You really think there's a person alive who would've paid money for that?" The man looked down at his client who was stammering in indignation and fury.

"Jeffery!" Yelled Lester. Jeff, who happened to be standing right next to his short friend, snapped awake. "We need to talk, now!" With that Lester stormed out of the room.

Jeffrey had the decency to nod to his manager before running out of the still open door. He found Lester in what was technically the man's dressing room, but was really just Jeff's old van outfitted with a clothing rack and a cracked mirror. He was pacing and talking to himself.

"-dare he, does he even know who I am? I mean after all the work, two and a half, no three! All the things I could of done, my plans to, how cruel can one son of a- Jeffrey! How long have you been there?"

"You know, Gregor's only trying to help us." Jeff said, trying to reason with his irrational friend.

"Oh, it's Gregor is it!? Have they turned you too Jeffrey? They're trying to change us, them and their conformist way of thinking, well I tell you this, I will not be bought! Come on, we're leaving." With that statement, Lester began to grab random things and throw them into a small sack over his shoulder.

"Lester we can't." Jeff said as close to bewildered as he could get.

"And why not?"

"Because, we've already signed a contract!" Jeff practically yelled. That stopped Lester's fevered movement. He froze and stared wide eyed at the taller man.

"Oh my god, Jeffery, your right. If we ran away now, they'd be looking for us for forever, we'd never be free again."

"Exactly, we need to be careful."

"So you agree, we need to go?" Lester looked over at his friend; he looked a mixture of hopeful, fearful, and desperate.

Jeff stopped and stared at his friend. He frowned, "Lester, this is everything we've ever dreamed of, are you sure you want to give this all up?" Jeff gestured around him. To the array of guitars and guitar-like instruments that lined one wall. To the black leather clothes scattered on the floor. To the ratty mattress lying in one corner that held some of their favorite memories. Lester picked up on of the outfits he had worn to shoot the band's latest music video.

"We're rock stars Lester, isn't this what we always wanted?"

Lester dropped the outfit to the ground. "No… No, Jeffery, we didn't want a life of answering to the faceless demands of the public. I will not conform, I refuse to take orders from The Man!" A sudden maniacal insanity flashed across his face, he turned and ran out of the van.

Jeff ran after him. He followed Lester out onto the parking lot in front of the building. There he stopped and stared at his friend. The Canadian was standing on top of his manager's car. A spotless, sleek, Lamborghini that must have cost a fortune. Lester was standing on its hood, holding a large stone over the windshield.

"We came here to rock Jeffery." He smiled wickedly, "And rock we will." The stone fell from his hand and shattered the thick glass.

There was a moment of awkward, anticlimactic, silence then the alarm blared to life. It filled the air with shrill blasts of noise causing both ex-Buymorians to stoop and put their hands over their ears.

"We should probably run now," Lester yelled.

"I can't hear you."

"What was that Jeffery?"

"What are you saying?"

"Jeffery we don't have time to just stand here and talk we need to run!"

"I have no idea what you are saying Lester, but having this discussion out here seems like bad idea."

"What?"

Suddenly, Gregor, the manager, ran out of the building. He stared at the short man standing atop his car, covering his ears and yelling nonsense at the larger man standing on the ground who was covering his right ear and yelling right back.

"They're insane!" He yelled, causing both of his clients to look up, see him, look back at each other, then sprint towards their van. A few seconds later, the engine started.

"Hey!" yelled Gregor, "Where the hell do you two think you're going?" The van drove by him. It stopped just long enough for Lester to yell their resignation out the window along with some very choice swear words.

Gregor was left standing in the middle of an abandoned parking lot staring opened mouthed and bewildered at where Jeff and Lester had driven away. It was then that his car decided it was a good time to shut up.

End


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Let me start off by saying thank you. To everyone who has taken the time to read and review this story. I realize that all authors say this, believe me I never thought I would be typing it, but hearing what you guys think of my writing is the most incredible thing I have ever experienced.**

**I am proud of this chapter. It took a few rewrites but I like the way it turned out. I hope you do too.**

**I do not own Chuck or any of its characters.**

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Chuck stared at the screaming man jerking around on the floor. Randill was grasping a collar around his neck as agonizing shrieks pierced the air around him like spears. Chuck grimaced at the sight of a man in such clear pain. He looked up at Sarah who glanced back at him. Her eyes swept his body and when she looked at his face, he gave the most reassuring smile he could muster, before pushing himself up from the frigid, steel chair.

Sarah stepped back to steady her husband, who seemed a hair's breath away from collapsing. She slung his arm around her shoulders and positioned herself so she could hold some of his weight while still being able to fire the gun in her other hand if necessary. It felt so good to have him back in her arms, to feel his breath on her skin. She had him now, and she not going to let him get separated from her again.

The guards, who had been staring at a convulsing Randill with a mixture of fear, disgust, and morbid curiosity, saw the couple's movements and in a flash had their guns trained on the two spies again. The English man gave a smile that didn't come close to his eyes. "You can't escape. You two are surrounded by my men, there's nothing you can do that would not end up in your deaths. Just put the gun down Agent Walker."

Sarah looked down at Randill, he had stopped moving, stopped breathing. She couldn't let that happen to Chuck, she wouldn't.

Sarah fixed her gaze on the English man and narrowed her eyes. Her mind kicked into overdrive trying to find a way out of the situation. "You're going to kill us anyway, at least let us know the name of the man who took us down, every spy deserves that much right?" She needed to keep him talking, until she came up with some sort of plan.

The man studied her and thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Alright," He stopped for a moment and chuckled at a joke only he seemed to find funny. "Sovek, my name is Maxwell Sovek."

Chuck frowned, "You sure?" he asked. Both Sarah and Sovek raised their eyebrows. "I mean when I hear Sovek, I think like"-the man was starting to look increasingly impatient- "Russian… mafia and… you know what it d-doesn't matter."

An awkward silence stretched between every member of the room.

"Right, well, back to what I was saying, put your guns down or I will tell my men to shoot you."

Sarah shook her head, "No, you said you needed us alive, you wouldn't kill us."

"But I would be more than willing to kneecap you." He said, his voice completely steady and serious. Sarah frowned but kept her gun raised.

"Sarah, just do what he says, I'd rather not die here." Chuck said. Unlike before, his voice was now laced with pain. His wounds were deep, deep enough to bleed out if they weren't treated. She stared at him; there was a look in his eyes, almost like he was trying to tell her something. She frowned quizzically.

Chuck clenched his jaw. This was not looking good for them. He forced his face into a faint imitation of his flash face. Them he looked at Sarah with questioning eyes.

This time she understood what he was telling her. _I can still flash. Should I? _She widened her eyes and just barely shook her head. If Chuck flashed Sovek would know he had the Intersect, that could not be allowed to happen.

Sovek seemed to be growing impatient. "Drop the gun now Agent Walker!" He commanded and Sarah looked at him then back at Chuck. She looked at his blood covered chest and felt his labored breaths. They had to get out of there. She was not going to let them hurt her husband again. Chuck was pleading through his eyes now. She knew he was scared and wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of wherever they were. She clenched her jaw, and looked at the ground. Frustration rolled over her. She glanced back at Chuck and very slowly nodded.

He took one more second to give Sarah a nervous smile, then Chuck looked over at the twenty plus guards surrounding him and he gave into the super computer pulsing against his brain. Thousands of images flashed before his eyes. Pictures of punches, kicks, head holds, blocks, hundreds of different martial arts techniques passed before him. The agent took a second to process the onslaught of information before giving his wife's hand a squeeze and straightening his back.

They both looked at each other. The odds were that they were both going to die in this room. But if anyone could defy the odds, it was the human Intersect and the best spy the world has ever seen. The couple nodded at each other then turned toward their opponents, and smiled.

The guards fired and they both dived out of the way. Sarah grabbed the man closest to her. Using him as a human shield, she fired at the other guards over his shoulder.

Chuck dropped to the ground and swept the legs out from two men. He launched himself up and towards another guard, making sure to steer clear of the barrel of his gun. He held the man in a headlock and twisted the weapon out of his hand. He fired at the swarm of men towering down on him, making sure to only aim at legs and arms.

The fight lasted for a good 10 minutes. Sarah and Chuck used whatever they could as cover, They received more than a few punches and both had bloody noses, but they managed to make an opening in the enemy's defense just long enough to slip into the hallway and start running.

They sprinted away from the guards. With their thoughts focused on simply putting as much distance between them and the spraying bullets pursuing them. They had no clue where they were going. The compound was a maze of staircases and hallways.

From what they could tell, they had been near the top of the building. Around 7 stories up, much too high to jump, even if they could find a window.

They raced through corridors filled with locked doors. Some seemed to be empty while the inhabitants of others yelled and banged against their cell doors as Sarah and Chuck passed.

At some point they found a staircase and practically flew down three flights of steps. Just as they ran past the door marked Level 4, a small emblem caught Chuck's eye. It was an image of the word "Hatay" in a red circle. Chuck stared at it and felt his mind rush. Letters flashed before him. The letters became words, the words became sentences, the sentences formed documents. Pages and pages of documents flashed before Chuck, millions of letters, it took him half a second to comprehend it all.

"Chuck, we don't have time to stop!" Sarah hissed at him urgently and tugged his hand. Chuck focused on her and smiled.

"I know where we are," he said, Sarah blinked, surprised, "follow me." With that Chuck began to run with a new sense of direction and purpose. He ran down two more flights of stairs. He ran forward, stopped, turned left, kept running, took another left, raced down a flight of stairs Sarah hadn't even seen, then took a right. Chuck continued to follow the map in his head until they reached the end of a hallway.

He bent down and studied the keypad to the door on his right. After a moment's thought he pushed a series of numbers and the light flashed green. Chuck motioned for Sarah to go inside the room. She obliged and he followed.

They were in a prison cell. It was small and bare. The furniture consisted of one beat up, gray mattress in the corner. For a few minutes, all they could do was stand there and catch their breaths. When they could talk again, Sarah turned to her husband.

"Ok," she started, still out of breath, "what the hell is going on?" Chuck looked at her and opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a strangled cry and he stumbled back. Sarah rushed forward as his back hit the cell wall and Chuck sank to the floor.

"Chuck!" she cried, kneeling down. She put one hand to his forehead to find it covered in sweat and running way to hot. "Your burning up," she informed him, her voice a mix of worry, regret, and fear. He looked up at her and met her eyes. The pain he felt outweighed anything he had experienced before, but their was no way in hell he was going to tell an already vengeful Sarah Walker that. He shoved the pain to the back of his mind.

"I flashed on a name painted on one of the staircases we passed." Chuck said between labored breaths. "We're in a Turkish prison called Hatay, it's in Antakya. Lucky for us, the Intersect had-" his breath escaped in a cry as a new wave of pain rolled over him, knifing his chest. "Blueprints!" he was forcing his lips to move to form words, he needed to stay conscious. "Blueprints of the prison. Above us is the only way out."

Sarah looked up, in the corner of the room was a grate built into the ceiling. "Air ducts." She whispered, then looked at her husband almost smiling at the newfound hope for escape. But Chuck was slumped against the wall, his breathing ragged and pained. For the first time she allowed her eyes to wonder down to the rest of his body. Blood was flowing freely from the slashes across his chest and legs. He was pale and shaking from the loss of the vital, crimson liquid, he looked like he was about to pass out.

Sarah looked away again, fighting the tears forming in her eyes. She wasn't sure if it was anger or worry or fear that formed a lump in her throat and made it hard to talk, but at that moment it didn't matter. She separated herself from the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. Sarah focused her mind on her objective; to get herself and Chuck out alive.

"Sarah," She turned to Chuck again, managing to look him in the eyes this time, eyes that seemed so much more intense than they had just moments before. "Sarah I'm…W-we both know that I can't…" He looked at her with determined eyes, but they were filled with pain. "If I try to escape, I'll collapse before we step one foot outside." Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but Chuck cut her off, "No please, let me finish. They said they… they need me alive Sarah. If I run now, there's no way either one of us will survive. But…but if I… if I stay, I can divert their attention from you, you'll be able to get away... t-to tell Beckman-"

"No, Chuck I am not going to leave you here to be tortured." Her voice was steady, he was not going to sacrifice himself for her, she was not going to let him.

"Sarah you have to believe me," He continued, almost pleading now, "I would only ask this if there was no other way, you need to-"

"No, I won't. We're getting out of here."

"Sarah-"

She didn't let him get any farther, "Chuck, I love you, but shut up. You are my husband and there is no way in hell I am going to leave you in the hands of terrorists."

Relief washed over him, "Oh thank god." Sarah raised an eyebrow, "I really don't want to die." He clarified.

She smiled, "Well lucky for you, neither do I." They both smiled and Chuck gave a quiet laugh.

…

"Devan, I think I'm going crazy." Eleanor Woodcomb informed her husband as if she were commenting on the weather rather than declaring her own insanity. The muscular man lying beside her raised his eyebrows at the statement.

"Um, ok babe, you want to talk about it?" It was true Ellie had been acting weird these past few months, but Devan had just assumed she was still adjusting to the move. But Ellie had never really struck him as someone who would call herself crazy, so maybe there was something wrong.

Ellie turned to face her husband propping her head up on her arm as she did so to prevent her face from being buried in the pillow. She looked at him and frowned, "Does it make me crazy to think I'm crazy?" She asked seriously. So seriously that Devan was almost taken aback.

"Ellie talk to me, is there something I should know." There was silence for a moment, then.

"It's stupid, really, but… do you remember when Chuck was at Stamford and he was up late at the library in the middle of the night? Remember, het tripped on his way back to the dorm and sprained his ankle. He couldn't walk and no one was around to hear him yell. But I got this feeling that he was hurt and went looking for him. I found him on the other side of the campus and he always wondered how I knew he needed me. Well I have that feeling again Devan."

She stared at Devan hard, and he just felt lost. "So you think Chuck… twisted his ankle?"

Ellie gave a frustrated sigh, "No, I- I don't know exactly what it is I just know he's in trouble Devan."

She was frantic now, her voice quickly rising in pitch. Desperately and mildly bewildered, he tried to calm her down, "Whoa, babe, I'm sure Chuck is fine. He has Sarah and Casey with him remember?"

"I know, I know. That's why I think I'm going crazy."

Devan smiled and stroked her cheek with his fingers. "Ellie I can assure you that you are anything but crazy." She smiled, so he kept going, "You are the smartest, sexiest, kindest person I have ever met."

Ellie smiled and kissed her husband, but he could tell part of her was still not completely there. So he sighed and looked at her again. "Look, if you're really worried give Morgan a call, if anyone knows where Chuck is, it's Morgan."

"I just wish we weren't so far apart now." She whispered, longing clear in her voice.

"I know babe, but jut remember how awesome Chicago is, and how great baby Clara is doing with her new nanny." The pure enthusiasm in his voice made her smile and sink further into the bed.

Baby Clara seemed to have a sense for when people were talking about her, and she decided that it was just the right moment for her to start crying. The two parents groaned and climbed their way out of bed to appease their daughters ear-splitting demands.

…

In the middle of February, Russia is obnoxiously cold. That was Morgan Grimes' first impression of Moscow. Snow covered every inch of space, from the snow drifts piled high on the side of the road to the light fluff that was already starting to accumulate in his hair.

"You know," Morgan said as he scrambled to catch up to Casey as the two of them made their way through the streets of the crowded capital. "When people say that snow is like a blanket, they have no idea what they're talking about. Because blankets are warm and soft and wonderful, and snow, well snow is cold and just not wonderful at all. I'll admit, it does sort of have a nice charm that I could see people enjoying. Sort of magical huh Casey?...Casey?"

The large man didn't turn around; he didn't even seem to register Morgan's ramblings. He just kept muttering to himself. Something about wiping out lots and lots of communists.

Morgan stared at his friend and cautiously said, "You know Casey, Russia hasn't been communist for a while now." Casey focused on the short man in behind him for a split second, grunted, then when back to his grumbling, but Morgan definitely heard the addition of the world socialist to his murderous ramblings.

A few minutes passed filled with nothing but awkward silence and the crunch of snow. Finally Casey looked up and scanned his surroundings. He checked to see if anyone was close enough to be watching them then he abruptly turned down an alley. The dark path was little more than an empty space between buildings. It seemed to have no special significance, nor did it seem like the type of place Casey would just take a casual stroll down. Morgan opened his mouth to ask where the hell they were going when Casey came to a halt.

Morgan barely managed to avoid crashing into his partner who was hard at work examining a wall. After a confused second Morgan spoke, "Um, Casey, if it's not to hard, would you mind explaining why you seem o be having what I can only describe as a very serious telekinetic conversation with a wall." Casey growled something that might have been a "Shut up," but other than that he made no indication of having heard the short man.

After a minute of careful inspection Casey placed his hand on a section of the brick and a faint buzzing noise filled the air as a green light shown between the Colonel's fingers. The buzzing grew to a rumbling as a large section of the brick sunk back and slid out of the way, revealing a dark, narrow tunnel.

"Cool," Morgan said as Casey climbed through the gap, "This is just like that part in Harry Potter, except you know he was a wizard, and we're spies, and that seemed a lot less ominous and creepy than this does now."

"Shut up moron," Casey growled as Morgan crawled in behind him, "have you ever heard 'Silence is Golden'?" Morgan most likely would have retaliated to that if the wall hadn't slid closed behind him, plunging the agents into pitch black.

"Um… Casey? This is normal, right? You haven't, I don't know, led us into some evil death trap by any chance have you?" Casey didn't dignify that question with an answer, instead he began to make his way forward through the complete darkness, pausing only long enough to yell back at Morgan to hurry up, which he did out of fear that he would get left behind to die.

After what felt like a hours to Morgan and two minutes to Casey a faint light appeared ahead of them. Casey grunted in welcome at the upcoming relief from the constricted tunnel. Morgan looked ahead to see what Casey had grunted at. His eyes widened.

"Oh no, no no no, bad idea. We have to turn back Casey, right now!"

"What's gotten into you?" Casey said in mild disinterest.

"Come on really? It's a light at the end of the tunnel Casey! You know, don't go towards the light!"

"Grimes, another word and I will turn around and knock the crazy out of you with my gun."

"You'd shoot me? Me? After all we've been through I thought we were friends. Wait, how'd you even get a gun through customs? I saw you go through the X-rays."

"Call it a trick of the trade, and no I won't shoot you, unless you keep rambling like an idiot, but it wouldn't be all that hard to knock you out with a large metal weapon in my hands, so for the love of America, shut the hell up!"

Morgan did just that. With silence surrounding them, the two men emerged from the tunnel, shielding their faces from the bright lights. Casey stood with all the grace and pride of a Colonel, Morgan stumbled around half blind, bumping into every object in the room twice and tripping over his own feet.

"Morgan!?" A familiar accented voice exclaimed incredulously from close by, then she seamed noticed the larger, unmoving man, "and Casey." Morgan froze and stood erect as the tips of his ears began to turn pink. It couldn't be her, but that voice. Chills ran up Morgan's spine, which felt strange when combined with the heat rising in his face.

Carefully the Buy More manager lifted his hand from his face. There she was, tall, sexy, her long arms and legs lean and muscled, her glossy hair falling past her shoulders. Morgan stared at her for a second, then blinked and smiled, he felt nothing, no sense of longing or lust. It wasn't shame or anything connected to it that had turned his cheeks red, just his own memories of times past.

He nodded to her, "Carina, nice to, see you again." She raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a once-over, then shrugged. Zondra stood next to her, a large gun resting on her shoulder casually, her dark eyes regarding the Morgan with curiosity. "Zondra! It has been a long time hasn't it." Morgan, having no idea why the former Cats were in Russia or why Casey had sought them out, he simply smiled and hoped everything would be explained soon.

"Casey," Carina said, glancing at him with abstract distaste.

"Carina," The Colonel responded coldly with a stiff nod.

Zondra raised her eyebrows, then frowned, then her face turned into a mask of annoyance and impatience. "Alright, we've all said hi, now how about you boys tell us what the hell you're doing in our safe house and interrupting our mission." As she said the gun dropped from her shoulder to her hands and although the weapon wasn't aimed at either of them, Casey and Morgan felt a definite sense that she could and would kill them in seconds if they weren't careful.

"Hey now," Casey said placing his palms toward them in the worldwide gesture for 'I mean no harm'. "We came to ask for your help." All three of the room's occupants stared at him as if he were crazy.

"What does the strong John Casey need our help with?" Carina asked mockingly. Casey growled but managed to bite back any retort that would earn him a bullet or fist.

"Sarah and Chuck have been taken, we need your help to rescue them."

The two females frowned, "Why not use CIA resources?" Zondra asked narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

"Because this needs to be done off the books." Casey replied, he sounded angry and annoyed, Morgan had no idea what was going on. Why hadn't Casey told him this was the plan in the first place? What was the point of the secrecy?

"Why?" Carina prodded. And Casey growled in irritation.

"Because no one can know why he was taken." Morgan's eyes widened as he realized what Casey was about to tell them, and why they hadn't talked about it until they were in a CIA safe house away from prying ears. What Casey was about to do was illegal, and Morgan was behind him 100 percent.

"Why?" Zondra asked more force in her voice now.

Casey looked at them, growled some more, opened his mouth, closed it, and when it became clear that Casey couldn't divulge government secrets without a good ten minutes of internal wrestling Morgan stepped in.

"Have either of you two ladies ever heard of a thing called the Intersect?" He said with a smile.

End


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Hello to everyone. I just wanted to say thank you again to everyone who has reviewed, getting your feedback is what makes me better writer, so please tell what I'm doing right or wrong, if you hate something, maybe I can fix it... maybe. **

**Also I am working on two other Chuck fanfics. They are juct in the planning faze right now, but I am actually super excited to start writing them. **

**About Jeffster, I never loved their part in the show, but they were characters and they did play a role so they will have a presence in this fanfic. That said, they will half a minimal role in the main plot (at least not until the end) and will probably effect the spy side of Chuck about as much as they did in the actual show. So if you really hate them and were able to skip those scenes in the show and still follow the main plot, you can probably do that here too.**

**I do not own Chuck or any of its characters.**

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Morgan inhaled the rich steam rising from the mug in his hands. It had been a long night, full of explanations, arguments, planning, and more than one death threat from both Casey and Zondra. Coffee had always been Morgan's morning salvation, especially when he was working on 28 hours of no sleep. Gazing around the room, he watched as everyone worked in the controlled rush of a spy at work.

The job of explaining the past few years to Zondra and Carina had been hastily given to the bearded man by Casey. At first, Morgan was more than happy to share his wealth of Chuck knowledge, but after the fifth hour of speaking, his voice came out raspy and dry and his eyes were barely open. So the team had decided to take a break, allowing Carina and Zondra to process all of the new information and giving Morgan a short, coffee filled, reprieve from his storytelling.

Casey was off exploring the compound, most likely looking for the armory. And Zondra had left too, murmuring something about surveillance monitors. Carina had led Morgan to what looked like the main room of the bunker.

There was a large conference table in the middle of the rectangular room. The walls were covered in data charts, photos, and television monitors. Each wall seemed to hold a hundred secrets, from a foreign diplomat's affair, to nuclear launch codes and updates on drug smuggling in Buenos Aires.

Morgan had collapsed on a few of the conference chairs and had gratefully accepted the steaming mug that Carina had produced. The woman studied him curiously for a moment before turning and walking over to one of the monitors.

With her back still turned to Morgan, Carina asked, "So did it work out?"

Surprised, Morgan looked at her quizzically. "Well, it's actually pretty complicated, Sarah sort of remembers stuff, but-"

"No," Carina interjected, "I'm not worried about Walker, she can take care of herself. I meant you and that other girl, the one I met last time I saw you." The spy kept her voice at an easy indifference, but Morgan wondered weather the question as than she was letting on.

Morgan smiled into his coffee cup, "Her name is Alex." He said, "And it's been wonderful, actually I really think she might be the one. Before Chuck got taken I was going to tell him that-" a blaring alarm pierced the air, effectively cutting him off. Bright red lights began to flash, forcing Morgan to cover his eyes with his hand.

"What the hell is that!?" He yelled over the noise.

"Carina practically snarled a response, "That is why you don't interrupt an ongoing sting operation." Morgan felt a hand yank him to his feet. He uncovered his eyes to see Carina standing over him, looking a cross between annoyed and furious. She shoved a tranq gun into his hands and shouted, "Follow me!" Then sprinted out of the room. Morgan who was thoroughly bewildered did as he was told.

…

Casey had been looking for the armory. He had only been able to slip a handgun threw customs and preferred having something semi-automatic by his side in a fight. The bunker seemed to be set up as a maze, designed to redirect and confuse intruders. Even with Casey's long, colorful experience with underground bunkers, it still took him a half hour or so to find the gunroom.

He was surprised to see Zondra there, especially because he had left before her. To his quizzical glance, she said, "I took a short cut." The Colonel nodded and continued on to examine the large selection of black weapons on the shelf in front of him.

As he examined each gun, picking it up, aiming, staring at it for a while, then shaking his head and putting it back on the shelf, Zondra walked over to him. "So… the Intersect." She kept her voice even, but Casey sensed a dangerous tone in her accent.

"Yup, the secret's out." He said blandly, keeping his back turned to her.

"A super computer with all of our government's secrets is locked up in the mind of Chuck Bartowski." Casey just grunted in response. "Seems pretty hard to belief," Zondra continued, "Plus secret CIA coups and instant memory loss, it's nearly impossible that you're telling the truth."

At this, Casey did turn around, and he saw Zondra standing a few feet away pointing a gun straight at him. "Whoa," he said putting his hands up, "There's no need for things to get messy right?" The Colonel began to inch backwards, towards a gun he had left on one of the tables.

"I need a straight answer Casey, why are you here?" Her voice was threatening and sharp.

He inched backwards again and very slowly moved his hands down to look as if he were trying to plead with her. "Look, I know it sounds crazy. Believe me, I never thought Bartowski would be the one to get the Intersect, but it is true. How else would you explain a nerd like Chuck being a competent agent."

Zondra didn't look impressed.

"Come on, you saw the guy in action. Do you really think they teach those skills at the Buy More?" Casey was careful to keep her gaze on his eyes and not on his hands

Zondra frowned and thought about what he had said. She thought back to the moments she had seen him fight. And as much as she hated to admit it, their crazy story started to make sense. "Okay," she said finally, "Let's say I believe you." Casey raised his eyebrows in surprise, "That still doesn't explain why you're here."

"Like the moron said before, we need you're help." He practically spat the words out of his mouth. Zondra was still pointing her weapon at him and he was only inches away from arming himself.

"Right," she said disbelieving, "Because Sarah Walker and her super computer/spy husband got kidnapped by a terrorist organization that seems to have endless resources, yet I've never heard of them. And so you and a chain electronics store manager are going to go save them. You're in Russia to ask the help of two DEA agents who already have a mission to help you with this daring rescue, but you're actually pretty sure that they're not in Russia. Oh, and the whole thing has to be done without the CIA or Washington knowing any of it for some secret reason you refuse to tell us."

There was a silence as Casey tried to figure out how exactly to respond to her absolutely ludicrous summary of their mission. "Well when you put it that way it sounds ridiculous. Also how did you know we were pretty sure that they're not in Russia."

"Because if you knew Carina and I were here, you also would have known that we are informed about all espionage activity going on in this country, and then there would have been no reason to explain what happened because would already have known."

"Fine, they're not in Russia. But you actually have heard of the group we're after." Zondra raised a curios eyebrow so Casey elaborated, "The group that has them is made up of three terrorist syndicates, and one of them is stationed here."

Zondra's eyes widened, as she understood for the first time why Casey had come to them for help. "Kulak is…"

"One of the three," Casey finished for her. "Bartowski and Walker were taken on a mission to find information on the other branches. But it was a false lead."

Zondra put her gun down and Casey dropped his arms. "You'll help?" he asked.

Zondra sighed, "If Chuck and Sarah were taken be someone who gives orders to Kulak, then they're going to need all the help they can get." Her voice held hints of worry this time. She seemed genuinely committed to saving her friend. Then she seemed to notice something on the wall behind him. Zondra cursed and yelled, "Grab that gun and follow me."

Casey did as he was told, his last thought was that Zondra might be bipolar, then the sirens started and thoughts left his mind.

…

Sarah would consider herself a master of air ducts. She had used the aluminum pathways to her advantage ever since her earlier years at the Academy. She had crawled through the ducts of hundreds of buildings in hundreds of cities. They were always predictable, always reliable, and always the same. Unless of course you were crawling through them with your half conscience husband, fearing that every time he stopped to catch his breath or wonder which direction to go in, that he was about to die and leave you alone. Then all of a sudden, the easy and simple duct crawl becomes much more challenging.

Again Sarah cursed the man with the scar for hurting Chuck. She cursed Sovek for being an all around pretentious jackass, and she cursed herself for not getting to her husband in time to spare him this pain.

It had not been easy to get Chuck up into the ducts. It had required careful maneuvering and a lot of pain for both of them. But once inside, Chuck seemed to know exactly what direction to head in. And he only took a few seconds to decide which turn to make when the ducts came to a fork.

"We're close, Sarah." He said, surprising her. It had been a full half hour since he had spoken, she had assumed it was because he was concentrating on guiding them to freedom, but now, after hearing the strain in his voice, she wondered if it was because of the pain he must be feeling.

Sure enough, it was only minutes before the two of them came to a light at the end of the long, metallic tunnel.

"Does it lead outside?" Asked Sarah. Her husband nodded.

"I'm not sure what kind of security is out there, so I would say the best chance we have to escape would be stealth." Chuck said. Sarah nodded, thinking. Actually they would have the best chance is they could distract the guards and lure them away, then they could make a run for it when the coast was clear. But Sarah knew that it would be impossible for her to leave Chuck's side long enough to go cause a distraction like that. So they would have to do their best to be silent and stay out of sight. And having a bit of luck wouldn't hurt their chances either.

"Can you flash?" she asked.

"No."

"So if we get caught…"

"We're dead, yeah."

"Let's not get caught then," As the words left her mouth, she leaned forward and kicked the grate away, allowing light to stream into the duct, momentarily blinding both of them.

Once she could see again, Sarah dropped to the ground and turned around to help Chuck. Together they knelt behind a row of bushes holding their breath in case a guard nearby had heard the metallic thud that the grate had made. When no one came rushing over to shoot them, Chuck forced a smile.

"Let's get outta here."

…

A life on the run was not exactly what Jeff had planned when he had gotten on the plane to Germany. He had been promised a life of fame and fortune and an adoring crowd of both male and female admirers. But he had gone to Germany with Lester, so when he found himself living out of his van and growing a beard in order to maintain his "cover", Jeff was not all that surprised.

The "STER" in JEFFSTER! was in the passenger seat of the van, recording the trials of being on the run. Every once in a while Jeff would catch snippets of his monologue to the camera.

"… they're after me I can feel it… will not conform to the demands of the system… I really have to pee." The last one was directed at Jeff, who took a few seconds to process the statement.

"Uh… there's a rest stop up ahead, at least I think so, I can barely read these signs, most of it looks like gibberish."

"Ah yes," said Lester knowledgably, "The gargle of consonants that is the German language." After sharing this lovely piece of information, he sat back in his seat and promptly passed out.

Jeff glanced down at the clock on the dashboard. It said the exact wrong time and had been that way for years. Anyone else would have looked at it and seen the time as 3:37 AM, but Jeff, who had called the vehicle home for countless years understood it to mean 11:28 PM. So he pulled over to the side of the road and turned the engine off.

The ex-Buy More employee rolled the windows down and watched the passing traffic. Jeff let the hum of the tires on the road slowly lull him to sleep until he was so close to passing out he wasn't even sure he was still conscience.

But then Lester complained, "Jeffery! What on earth are you doing, my bladder can barely contain itself. Go! Drive!"

So Jeff started up the car and continued to drive. But his eyes refused to open all the way and his mind felt slow and sluggish. He thought back to the few beers he had had while celebrating the free life with Lester. Drunk driving was illegal in California but Jeff had never respected that law. He didn't know if he could he could get his license revoked by a German cop, but Jeff decided it was too much work to think about. So he stopped thinking all together.

As his vision blurred, he had barely enough time to direct the van at the glowing mass of gold and green in front of him before he passed out.

...

Lester screamed as the van crashed into the Buy More. As glass shattered around him his head slammed into the air bag that their manager had thankfully installed in the car.

They had gone right through the glass of the main entrance and were now in the middle of the entry space of the Buy More, right on top of the green and gold insignia. Coughing, Lester opened the door and practically fell out of the van.

"Jeff!" He called behind him, "Jeffery are you alive?" The last thing he had seen was Jeff collapsing on the steering wheel without warning. Lester suspected the worst.

But out of loyalty, and curiosity, Lester clambered back into the twisted metal blob that had once been home to his best friend. He shook Jeff's shoulder and the fat man mumbled in response.

"You are alive!" Lester half yelled, half laughed. The Hin-Jew managed to push his friend out of the car and drag him away from the smoldering ruin of the car. With one good smack, Jeff woke straight up yelling something about precious jewels on sale, then he focused.

"What happened?" He asked, slurring his words so they sounded more like "wahappn?"

"I would like to know that myself." Someone said from behind the two idiots. Lester froze as he recognized the deep, slightly accented voice that carried both annoyance and anger, but no fear or surprise.

He turned around and sure enough, there was Big Mike, standing in his manager's suit and tie and looking pissed, but a hint of warmth in his eye suggested that he was maybe slightly relieved at seeing them alive.

"Big Mike?" Asked Jeff incredulously; as if he half believed that this was all a hallucination.

"No it can't be Jeffery," said Lester, "Our Big Mike is in Burbank, soaking up the sun and fishing on both his off hours and work hours. This must be some sort of test, to see if we are worthy of a life beyond."

"What the hell are you talking about boy?" Said the large man with an angry, no nonsense scowl.

"Our, it could be Big Mike." Lester corrected.

"Of course it's me, you idiot."

Jeff frowned at his ex-boss, "But why are you here?"

Big Mike sighed, "It's a long story, how about we start with a Subway BLT, just for old times sake. Then I'll explain everything."

Both of the musicians nodded and allowed Big Mike to lead them towards the mini-store inside of the Buy More.

…

Chuck was in pain. It was as simple as that. Every inch of him screamed in pain and tears formed in his eyes at any sudden movements he made. It was the most excruciating experience in his life, but he forced himself to suffer in silence.

Even the smallest cringe on his part made Sarah frown in despair and guilt, and that almost hurt more than the torture. So he locked his jaw and sealed his lips and refused to make a sound. Which actually helped a lot as he snuck past the guards patrolling the prison yard.

Their goal was the forest that surrounded the jail. It was full of bare trees and strange animal eyes that gave Chuck chills, but anything was better than a secret enemy torture facility, so the human Intersect kept moving towards it.

They mainly stayed behind the bushes and prayed whenever a guard came close enough to actually see them. So far they had been lucky and Chuck was actually starting to think that they might be able to pull off this daring escape.

But of course that was the moment it turned south. They were only a few feet away from the fence when a guard spotted them. Immediately he yelled to his friends, who then sounded the alarm. Chuck estimated they had mere seconds before the whole prison surrounded them so he sprinted towards the fence. Sarah did the same.

Chuck glanced up at the fence warily; he felt like he had no strength left, he doubted he could make the climb to the other side. He turned to tell Sarah that, but before he could get the words out she said, "I am so sorry Chuck." Then without any warning she grabbed him, and with more strength than he thought she had, Sarah hauled her husband up the fence and pushed him over the other side. Then she herself vaulted over.

When Chuck hit the ground, he landed on his shoulder. It exploded in pain and he screamed. Unable to move, Chuck just let Sarah grab his arm and sling it around her own shoulders. She began to run through the forest, but not nearly fast enough. Soon the sound of their pursuers thudded in Chuck's ears.

There was the sound of guns being fired and Sarah yelled and collapsed.

"Sarah!" Chuck gasped, reaching for the growing red spot on her side that she was pressing her hands over. She turned to him as a tear traced down her cheek. The guards were closing in on them, but neither of the spies made a move to get up. They knew that this day was going to come, but they hadn't thought it would happen so soon. Chuck still had so much left that he wanted to do.

"I love you Chuck." Sarah whispered, stroking his face with her hand. Her voice quavered and her eyes were lost in his. Chuck felt the warmth of her skin against his and for the first time in what felt like forever, all his pain washed away. There was just him and her kneeling in a forest, alone and undisturbed. He reached up and brushed the tear off her face with his fingertips.

"I love you too," His voice was strong but as he said the words, the tears he had been fighting for an hour finally won. He managed to choke out the rest of his sentence, "Sarah if I had to do it all again, I wouldn't change a thing, I would keep it all the same, every second."

She nodded and leaned down. If they were going to die, he thought, at least they were going to be in each other's arms in the end. That was how it should be, he had always known that. Their lips met with all the hunger and passion and desperation of their first kiss. Chuck braced himself for how it would feel when the guards finally caught up with them. He pulled his wife closer and she leaned into him. The both closed their eyes.

A blinding white light flooded the forest. Chuck thought that it really was the end, that Morgan had been right all those times he had talked about the light of the end of the tunnel. But then a figure moved across his vision. Someone pulled him and Sarah apart, he heard her scream his name and he did the same. He fought the figure that held him; he fought with all his strength and all his heart.

"Chuck stop." A voice familiar commanded, and he did, out of shock and exhaustion and pain. He stopped fighting as the world swirled into black.

End


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: This is late, I know. I really am sorry for not updating sooner. I'm not going to bore you with excuses, but just know that if I could have posted this sooner I would have (it's up to you to believe me or not.) Unfortunately we get no new information about the welfare of Chuck and Sarah in this chapter (sorry to keep you waiting for another two weeks.) Enjoy the chapter, and, as always, thank you from the bottom of my procrastinating heart for your continued support and reviews.**

**I do not own Chuck or any of its character.**

* * *

Ellie walked down the long hallway and surveyed her surroundings. Northwestern Memorial Hospital was busy at 5 in the morning. Doctors walked past on their morning rounds. Nurses were filing papers or running errands. And, as always, patients filled the E.R. Everybody was rubbing their eyes and yawning and sipping some form of caffeine. Ellie drank her own coffee as she slipped into one of the doctor's lounges.

She pulled her fathers' computer out of the bag slung over her shoulder and she sat down at one of the tables. The brunette yawned as the laptop warmed up. The surgery she had just performed had been a taxing one and Ellie was not looking forward to her eighteen-hour shift.

Ellie typed in the password without even thinking and she opened a file buried within the pages of her previous research. Almost two years had passed since Ellie had come into the possession of her dad's gift and she still had not sifted through half of the information the laptop contained. The file that she was studying now was one that she had discovered a week ago. It contained her father's blueprints for the Neural Governor. There were detailed descriptions of the early models for the device, scaled 3D images of the watch, and videos logging the process her father used to manufacture the Governor for himself and then for Chuck.

The research was addicting to the neural doctor. She leaned over the computer as her eyes scanned each page, bright with excitement and rapture. Devon walked in, smelling of soap and antiseptic. He didn't even try to engage his wife. He simple kissed her head and replaced her empty coffee cup with his full one. Ellie murmured her thanks without looking up. Devon dragged himself over to the couch and collapsed.

"48 hours of surgeries." He complained, "I'm awesome, not superhuman."

He glanced over at his wife who gave him a half nod and said, "That's great, honey."

Devon smiled teasingly. "You know yesterday I got a tattoo." No reaction. "Yeah, it's this really big naked dancer tattooed all the way down my back." Again Ellie said nothing, so Devon continued, "Also I sold our house. Then I used the money to pay for my drug addiction. I drove the car off a cliff to see what would happen so we're going to have to buy a new one. Over the last week I've killed 42 patients and counting. Oh, and I invited my parents over for dinner."

Ellie's head snapped up, "What?!" she said and Devon laughed.

"Don't worry about it babe, I was just saying how pretty you look staring at a computer."

Ellie sighed, "I'm sorry Devon, I know I've been on my dad's computer a lot recently, but it's just-"

"It's important to you." Devon finished, "I know, I get it. But do you think you could spare just 5 minutes."

Ellie smiled and closed the computer. "There," she said, "I'm all yours. What's on your mind?"

Captain Awesome sat up, "It's Clara." Immediately, worry flashed across his wife's face. "It's okay, she's fine, it's nothing like that." He reassured her, "It's just… do you think she's lonely?"

Eleanor stared at her husband in confusion and bewilderment, "Um…. What?"

"Well, I see how much you love Chuck and I know that growing up with my two brothers was pretty awesome, so…" He trailed off and looked at his wife expectantly and almost a little nervously.

Realization finally hit Ellie and her eyes widened. "Oh! You mean… oh." Devon was still staring at her. Ellie thought about her brother, how it felt to grow up with him by her side. Then she thought about her daughter and how much she loved Clara. It was not a hard decision to make for Eleanor Woodcomb to make. "Of course!" She laughed and stood. Devon stood too and joined her laughter. She kissed him, which proved to be very difficult since they were both still smiling. "Of course we can have another baby!"

Still kissing, the two of them stumbled back and landed on the couch. Both of their hearts raced and their previous exhaustion was forgotten. Ellie's hands slipped under her husband's shirt and he laughed. "You planning on getting pregnant right now El?"

She smiled. "Well a little practice never hurts."

"I like the sound of that." he mused, kissing her neck and slipping out of his scrubs. The sight of his chiseled chest, still made Ellie's heart flutter, even after all their years together.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Ellie yelled and whipped around to face the intruder. When she saw her mother standing over her and her half-naked husband, the doctor nearly fell off the couch.

"Mom! What are you doing here?" Ellie yelled, blushing furiously as she scrambled to stand up and fix her messy hair and clothes.

Devon did the same. Shirtless he stood before his mother in law and desperately tried to find something respectable to say. "Mrs. Bartowski, always a pleasure to see you." His mother in law was one of the two people in the world who could intimidated the handsome, extremely athletic heart surgeon, the other one being his wife. But still, Devon extended a hand and gave Mary Bartowski his most charming smile.

Mary shook hands with him, "Pleasure's all mine Devon." Then she turned to her daughter and raised an eyebrow. "No hello for your mother Ellie?" The spy sounded almost disappointed.

"Of course, " Ellie said hugging the agent, "It's great to see you Mom, it always is. What I meant was, why didn't you tell us you were coming?"

"There was no time." Mary replied simply.

"What? Why? Is it spy stuff?" Ellie asked. Mary kept quiet and frowned out the window.

"Mom, what happened?"

There was a long silence. Ellie stared at her mother, her heart beating painfully in her throat. When Mary Bartowski hesitated, something was seriously wrong.

"It's Chuck." Mary said hesitantly. "He was taken by enemy agents, held captive by them for two days. I managed to orchestrate a rescue team for him and they are moving him to a safe location as we speak." She paused, "But… he's hurt, badly and he needs your help."

Silence followed, a heavy crushing silence that made Ellie want to fold in on herself and disappear. Thankfully her husband stepped in. Devon put a hand around her shoulder and asked, "When was this? Tell us what happened."

"I will, later. Right now you two need to grab baby Clara and we need to go."

This seemed to snap Ellie out of her daze, "Wait, why do we need Clara? Where are we going?"

When the reply came it sounded rough and pained. "Ellie, we don't know what happened to Chuck, until he wakes up, we have to assume the enemy knows everything about all of us. I need to get you out of here, I need to get you somewhere safe."

"Will we ever be able to come back?"

Mary looked down, "I don't know. Now hurry up and get Clara, we need to get out of here."

Ellie looked around the lounge, she thought about her perfect life in Chicago with her amazing and her incredible husband. She thought about the little baby in her mind, the one she and Devon were going to have, a sibling for Clara. Then she thought about Chuck. She remembered his face when she found him all alone in that college hallway, alone and hurt and needing her. Chuck needed her now. So with one last look at the brightly lit room she turned and followed her mother out of the door.

…

The tranq gun felt heavy in Morgan's hands. He was accustumed to its weight after so many months of using it as his primary weapon, but he had always had Casey and Sarah and Chuck to do the real shooting in any fight he had gotten into. Now all Morgan had was Carina. Not the bearded man had any doubt in the agent's abilities, but unlike his friends, she seemed less likely to cover Morgan's back and make sure he was okay and more likely to leave him behind to die if he was running to slowly. So Morgan Grimes silently pleaded that they would not meet any baddies that were too strong for his ex-lover/super spy to take on by herself.

And as luck turned out, they didn't. They met no one at all as the two of them raced through the labyrinth of identical tunnels that made up the Russian base. Had he not been panting like a dog on a hot summer day, Morgan would have most likely been drilling Carina for information about why a siren seemed to necessitate the two of the sprinting down endless hallways while carrying lethal weapons. But all Morgan could do was try to keep breathing and not loose sight of Carina.

After what seemed like an eternity, the brunette finally came to a screeching halt. She typed something into a panel on the wall and a steel ladder dropped obediently from the ceiling. "Up," She commanded, and the Buy More manager did as told, finding himself in the air ducts, which Morgan noted looked exactly like a smaller version of the passage that he had just been running around in. He crawled forward to make room for his partner.

Carina pulled the ladder (which folded in on itself to become around a foot in length) up behind her and closed the small latch that they had climbed through. "Okay," she said, also slightly out of breath, "Stay silent, and do exactly what I say."

"Carina, what the hell is going on?" Morgan asked.

"Silence." Carina hissed back.

So Morgan closed his mouth and let Carina catch her breath and he watched as she pressed her ear against the cold metal wall of the duct. The spy listened intently for a minute, then when she seemed satisfied that no one had followed them she sat back and swept the loose strands of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear. The agent frowned at the wall and Morgan decided to try again.

"Carina please," He said softly, "Just tell me what's going on, I know that it probably has something to do with international terrorism and people who like to spit on puppies in their free time, but maybe if you just explained some stuff, maybe I could help."

Her bright eyes regarded him carefully for a while, seeming to glow in the dim light of the ducts. Finally she nodded. "Zondra and I are in Russia because of an organization named Kulak."

Morgan raised an eyebrow, "Kulak?"

"It means fist in Russian."

"Of course it does," He muttered.

"Kulak has been on the CIA's radar for years but it has always been shrugged off as a minor threat, just a bunch of low life drug lords who occasionally stirred up trouble. That was until a few months ago, when we got a message from on of our agents stationed here. He said that Kulak was more than we thought, that it had been a major supplier of Volkoff Industries and that most of Volkoff's former employers had turned to Kulak once your team had disbanded it. Just after that his transmission cut out and he never checked in again."

Morgan was in a state of shock, "Wait these guys worked hand and hand with Volkoff? How did we miss them?"

"There's more," Carina said gravely, "Zondra and I were sent here to look into Kulak after Agent Barker's disappearance and-"

"Barker?" Morgan asked, his heart suddenly filled with dread, "As in Cole Barker?"

"Yeah, you know him?"

"Not really, Chuck does though. The two of them worked together at one point, I thought he was MI6?"

"He was, but MI6 had him stationed here on a previous mission. The CIA explained about the threat of Kulak to the British and they were more than happy to help us out, provided Barker shares all is intel with them first. It was working fine until a few months ago."

"That's when you got his communication." Morgan asked.

Carina nodded, "When Zondra and I got here, we didn't know what to expect, but what we found, it's… it's huge."

"What exactly did you find?" Morgan asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"Kulak has infiltrated the Russian government." Carina said, her voice cold and hard. "They've taken over all gun trade in what was once the Soviet Union, and, if our most recent info is correct, their planning on starting World War 3. "

Morgan's jaw went slack and he felt like he might puke. Suddenly the world of spies didn't feel so romantic and sexy, it felt cold, and scary, and much too real for the Buy More manager. He couldn't even begin to contemplate what a war with Russia would mean. Probably death, destruction, pain, it was overwhelming. So, to keep from being lost in an abyss of fear, Morgan forced himself to focus on something close, something fixable.

"So, what does the siren mean? Why exactly are we in the air vent?"

Carina looked tired and frustrated and angry all at once. "It means that we have intruders, most likely Kulak."

"And the air vents?" Morgan prodded, uncomfortably cramped in the tight space.

"It's the only way out of the building without running into potential enemy forces. They won't look for us up here."

"Right," Morgan muttered, "Because no spies have ever escaped through the air ducts before, why check there?" Then he frowned, "Wait, what about Casey, we can't just leave him here."

"If he's with Zondra, the two of them will find a way out, if not well… at least we know he'll take a few of them down with him."

"What!" Morgan practically shouted, "No, no way in hell am I leaving a friend here to die. I refuse."

Carina smiled sweetly which sent shivers down Morgan's back. The spy raised her gun and pressed it against the bearded man's temple. "Good thing it's not up to you then. Now move."

Morgan nodded and started to crawl through the ducts. His heart was racing in his throat and sweat covered his forehead, Carina still had her gun pointed at him, and Morgan was almost positive that, unlike Casey, she would not be afraid to pull the trigger.

"Just for the record," he said harshly, "We are so over."

…

Gunfire rang through the hallway as Casey and Zondra ran. It seemed that they couldn't go ten feet before someone would jump in their way intent on killing them. Unfortunately for those people, Casey and Zondra did not particularly like being killed. Leaving a trail of bodies behind them, Casey followed his partner's trigger-happy friend through doors and down hallways. They ran upstairs and jumped over railings to the floor below. As Casey had suspected, the compound was set up like a complex maze, so complex that even Zondra ran into dead ends every so often.

When the two of them finally did stop running, they were both winded and their nerves were frayed from so much fighting. Adrenalin coursed through Casey, keeping his eyes sharp and his reflexes quick. Zondra had led him to a long dark hallway. She looked down the corridor but made no move to go down it. Instead she leaned against one of the walls and caught her breath.

"The main control room is through there." She said after a while. Casey looked up at her.

"I assume we're going to blow the place." He said, still breathing hard. Zondra nodded.

"Only way to save the intel we've gathered here." The large man looked down the metal hallway.

"You think we're going to have company when we get there?"

"I know it." Zondra said coming to stand next to Casey, "A frontal assault is out of the question. Besides, I doubt I would have enough time to program the computer if we were in the middle of a gun fight."

Casey nodded in agreement, "So a distraction then. I draw them into the hallway and you sneak around back."

"Sounds good, that is, if you're up to it."

Casey grunted in indignation and Zondra smiled. "Good, I can probably give us five minutes to clear the bunker, let's just hope Carina got Morgan out." Casey gave another grunt and began to check his weapon. "Here," Zondra said handing him a small cylinder, "Good luck." He nodded and Zondra turned and ran down the hallway.

…

Even after three months in the Russian base, Zondra still had trouble navigating the underground bunker without getting lost. It took her maybe ten minutes to make her way back around the maze to the other side of the control room. It would have taken her seven if she hadn't had to take care of all the enemy agents she ran into along the way.

Finally, she made her way to the back entrance to the control room. The place was swarming with guards. Five armed men were stationed at each monitor in the central chamber of the base, about forty in total. All of the intel they had managed to gather on Kulak in the past months was stored on those computers. Seeing the enemy stealing her secrets made Zondra's blood boil, which was strange since she was planning on blowing up those same monitors in a few minutes.

Across the room, Casey was crouched by the main entrance, a long hallway to his back. He met her eye and she smiled. He was excited for the upcoming gunfight; she could see it in his eyes. In some corner of her mind, Zondra respected Casey's endless love for all things gun related; he was the perfect soldier. Zondra held up three fingers and Casey nodded, smiling in anticipation. She put one finger down, feeling adrenalin flood her own mind, she put down another finger and suppressed the insane urge to laugh; it had been way too long she had blown something up. She put the third finger and watched as Casey tossed something into the room. Just in time she remembered to shut her eyes.

A brilliant white light shattered the permeable darkness of the bunker. Men cried out in pain and fell to the ground clutching their eyes. Those who stayed on their feet stumbled around blindly trying to figure out where their attacker was. Without wasting any time, Casey charged into the room gun ablaze. The sound drew every guard to him.

"Over here you bastards! Come and get me!" he fired his gun again and ran back into the hallway. Zondra wasn't sure if he was brave or just simply lacked a feeling of fear. But it didn't matter; their plan was working. The dazed, half-blind men were stumbling after Casey and now it was Zondra's turn.

Deftly the agent slipped past the remaining guards, silently knocking out any one of them that was aware enough to notice her. Quickly she made her way to the central computer. She typed in the system override and set the computer to self-destruct in ten minutes. She pressed enter and the screen switched to an ominous and slightly cliché countdown clock.

She turned to go get Casey and found him standing right behind her sporting a black eye and a bitter scowl. "Reinforcements came." He growled and moved so she could see the twenty or so guards with guns trained on them. Her heart sank and sweat beaded on her forehead. A man stepped forward from the crowd, he was tall with an arrogant face and upturned nose.

The man opened his mouth looking like he was about to launch into a speech about the magnificence of his evil deeds and how outmatched Casey and Zondra were against him. But he never got the chance. A gunshot resonated through the room and the man crumpled to the floor clutching his leg and screaming in pain.

"Doesn't anyone know that it's impolite to interrupt an ongoing sting operation?" Carina stepped out of the shadows with her gun locked and loaded and aimed right at the screaming man. Morgan slowly edged behind her, holding his tranq gun away from him and pointing it at every man in the crowd, never keeping one target for longer than a few seconds.

"Hey Casey!" He said when he spotted the large man, "I convinced Carina to come back for you guys, and it looks like you could use the help."

"You fools," Screamed the man on the ground, "Kill them!" The men aimed their guns at Carina and Morgan, and Zondra saw her chance.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." She called pulling a second cylinder from her belt, the last one she had. As the men looked back at her she prayed that her partners were smart enough to understand what she was doing. Zondra squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the pin out of the flash bomb.

Afterwards not a single one of them would remember how they did it, but Zondra, Casey, Morgan, and Carina somehow managed to make it out of that room. They sprinted through the steel maze of the base and seconds before the whole place exploded; they leapt through a brick wall into a dark alley and slammed the passage door closed behind them.

The explosion shook the ground underneath them and caused mortar to break away from the building. Months of work and espionage sucked up in a fiery inferno. But after a few seconds of stunned silence, Morgan whooped and cheered for being alive. Immediately Zondra wacked him in the head for bringing unwanted attention to them but the spy was smiling in spite of herself. Carina regarded the brick wall that concealed the now destroyed passage with a sort of satisfaction, and even Casey grunted in what seemed like pleasure.

The four of them were out of breath and exhausted; they were in a foreign country with no resources or leads, and they had escaped death by the skin of their teeth. But they smiled and relished in being alive. They allowed themselves a few moments of relief before they had to face the new threats that they all knew were coming.


End file.
